


triple time, with thoughts of loving you

by fakeclover



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Dates, Fluff without Plot, Ice Cream, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeclover/pseuds/fakeclover
Summary: For their first date, Junmyeon buys more ice cream than they could ever eat—and Minseok finds himself making bold plans for their future.





	triple time, with thoughts of loving you

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: xiuho, ice cream date
> 
> 🎶 the fic title is a line borrowed from 'weak' by swv  
> (eternal thanks to the friend who suggested this song!!)
> 
> extended content notes:  
> \- food  
> 

The automatic doors parted and Junmyeon stepped through, laughing and calling out a goodbye to the cashier. When he turned, Minseok was struck by how lighthearted he looked, plastic bag in one hand, tucking his wallet away with the other. He must have had time to change, wore clothes that looked like hand-me-downs by a grandparent, thick and comfortable under a puffy jacket.  
  
Seeing Junmyeon in the daylight like this, in his spare time, without the workday looming ahead—he hadn't realised how used he was to Junmyeon's pristine appearance prior to work. Cheap but meticulously pressed suit, seriousness, ever-straight posture were gone, replaced with relief, a serenity that made him look more real, added soft to the kind Minseok was used to seeing in him. It looked good on him, overwhelmingly so. Minseok ached to run his hands through Junmyeon's hair, make him laugh and duck away with messy hair. He let him lead the way instead, let the wind do it for him.  
  
They'd met a few stops further down the line of Minseok's, close to where Junmyeon lived. There was a small park, he'd suggested, wedged between high-rise apartment buildings, where they could sit, talk. They talked every morning on the subway, ever since Minseok had kept him from toppling over when it stopped unexpectedly. Junmyeon had attached himself to his side in exorbitant gratitude for the rest of the ride, had chatted him up every morning they ran into each other on their commute since, had asked him to meet on purpose soon—so Minseok had had to ask, clarify.  
There was also a corner store where they could get ice cream, Junmyeon had offered, his hesitance giving way to bright anticipation when Minseok had asked if the ice cream made it a date. It would, it had; their first date.  
  
The trees were strangely bright with new leaves, stood oddly tall, more an alcove than a park, shielding them from traffic noise still. Junmyeon climbed through a gap in the thicket on the side that Minseok might have missed, left a trail of ice cream cones behind as the plastic bag caught on a branch and ripped.  
  
He ducked inside, crouched down to help pick them up, brushed off dirt clinging to the packaging where it was wet with condensation. They almost bumped heads, Minseok crawling out of the thicket, trying to dodge the branches, and Junmyeon looking for stray cones, smiling like it was the most romantic moment of his life when their eyes met.  
  
Minseok's mouth felt dry, he didn't want to be kissed, not like this, with his hands full of cones and dirt, heart in his throat. And Junmyeon didn't kiss him, just held out the hem of his shirt to him, held up as a makeshift pouch, withdrew when Minseok had dropped what he'd gathered in there, too.  
  
He took a moment to collect himself, found Junmyeon sitting on a bench tucked under a huge tree, sneakers on the ground, shirt pouch filled with ice cream cones like an open bag of frozen treasure between his crossed legs.  
  
Minseok sat down next to him, further away than on the subway where he kept his distance, too, but let Junmyeon crowd into his space whenever he wanted; an arm around him to hold onto a bar, a brief whisper of a pun he was too embarrassed to say out loud against his ear.  
  
"Why did you get so many, I can't eat more than one," Minseok said. He'd never minded getting older but his body refusing to deal with certain food in large amounts now was something he still wasn't used to.  
Junmyeon nudged him to take a look at the assortment of cones again. He couldn't spot the flavour or brand he'd asked for.  
  
"Sorry," Junmyeon said, picking through the cones himself, idly sorting them by colour, "there was this kid. They almost cried when they saw me take the last one of their favourite. I got one of each that were left for you."  
  
"You prioritise a random kid's happiness over mine?" Minseok asked.  
  
Junmyeon looked up at him, clearly taken aback, before he caught sight of Minseok's smile. "You're horrible," he said, the tips of his ears red. "You know I'm bad at sarcasm."  
  
"What else are you bad at?"  
  
"I have a list on my—you're teasing me again, aren't you."  
  
He tried his best to stay serious when Junmyeon let out a small noise, somewhere between a huff and a whine, and watched him focusing on picking out a cone, rubbing it against his jeans to get rid of the leftover dirt and unwrapping it, taking the paper lid off. Vanilla-strawberry.  
  
Minseok reached over into his lap and pulled a prepackaged soft serve cone out. "I didn't know they sold these," he said, plucked the plastic cup off the swirled top. It had melted a little and he caught a drop with his tongue, but it was nice enough, the chocolate taste sugary and soft.  
  
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying their ice cream, the fine rustle of the leaves when the wind picked up again, the occasional footsteps of someone passing by, strollers, a dog running past.  
  
Minseok tried not to stare at Junmyeon who looked windblown and warm, carefully biting at his cone beside him. The air was cool around them, with the sunshine now being swallowed up by the buildings around them, and the cold from the ice cream settled pleasantly in Minseok's stomach.  
  
An exasperated noise startled him, and he looked over to Junmyeon to see him frantically rubbing at a spreading stain on his shirt. He inched closer, saw that one of the cones must have started leaking, helped plucking them out of Junmyeon's lap and setting them aside on the bench. Junmyeon stood up to toss the cone responsible for the damage into the trash can, returned to stand beside Minseok, incertain, fingers still tracing the wet stain.  
  
"Sorry," Junmyeon said, tone almost defensive, his entire person crumbling before him. "I didn't _think_ , of course it would melt—"  
  
"Junmyeon," Minseok said, reaching out for him.  
  
Junmyeon came to stand between his legs, glancing down at him, so embarrassed and doubtful Minseok couldn't bear it. He'd been so nervous before their date, had trusted Junmyeon's usually unbridled confidence to bring them closer; had merely interfered to keep it simple, to veto the elaborate and expensive plans Junmyeon had made.  
  
Simple. He reached up, cupped Junmyeon's face with one hand, traced a thumb over his warm cheek. Pulled him to sit on one of his thighs, astounded and delighted by how easily Junmyeon did, even more delighted when his confidence returned and he leaned down to gently kiss Minseok's nose.  
He pulled back so their gazes could meet, and Minseok tilted his face up, waited for Junmyeon to press his mouth to his. Both of their mouths were sticky, and he could feel Junmyeon mumble something about it into the kiss, took the chance to deepen it. His own tongue felt as cold as Junmyeon's and a little numb from eating the ice cream, sugar dulling what he could taste of Junmyeon, but their lips were warm, soft against each other.  
  
"Your stubble feels nice," Junmyeon said when he broke their kiss, cuddling closer and rubbing a thumb over one of the spots on his jaw where Minseok's two o'clock shadow was the most obvious.  
  
"I'd like to see it one day."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"The list of things you're bad at. Maybe I'll change my mind about marrying you."  
  
"I wouldn't want to marry you if you did," Junmyeon muttered, pressing his face into Minseok's neck.  
  
"You're not opposed to marriage, then?" Minseok asked, hugging him tighter. He wasn't serious, knew Junmyeon knew this, too—but he liked him, adored him enough to entertain the thought.  
  
"Walk me home first?"

**Author's Note:**

> if it gave you the according vibes, they're there and junmyeon might be autistic!  
> sorry about the rushed ending ;; hope it was enjoyable anyway  
> ty for reading 🍦  
> please let me know if it made you feel anything
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/fakeclover) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/fakeclover)


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